Eva’s ring—the sorceress’s ring—had glowed when Cleo touched Lucia. It hadn’t done that with anyone else. Only with the stone wheel, said to be connected to the Watchers.
There had to be more to this.
Cleo moved through the labyrinthine hallways toward Lucia’s chambers. No one stopped her. No one even noticed her.
What are you even thinking, you fool? she chastised herself as her steps quickened. You believe the King of Blood’s daughter—Magnus’s sister—could be the sorceress reborn?
At the door to Lucia’s chamber, Cleo came to a halt. Her heart pounded loud in her ears as she raised her clenched fist and knocked. Then she waited.
But there was no response. Perhaps Lucia wasn’t here.
Just before Cleo turned away, she heard something from within the room.
Someone was crying.
Summoning her courage, Cleo grabbed the handle of the door and turned it, pushing forward on the heavy oak barrier to peer inside.
Princess Lucia stood facing the open balcony, her hair a raven-black spill down her back. Her shoulders shook with her sobs—heart-wrenching, pain-filled sobs.
Cleo’s own heart ached at the sound of it.
Before she realized it, she had entered the room and moved closer to Lucia, reaching out to grasp the girl’s shoulder.
Lucia spun around, her eyes flashing with surprise.
Cleo gasped and her breath froze in the air before her. It was so cold in the room—like the gardens of the Limerian palace.
“I killed her.” Lucia’s voice broke on the words.
Cleo’s gaze dropped to what the princess held in her arms. It was a small brown rabbit, coated in frost and solid as a block of ice.
“What did you do?” she whispered.
“I didn’t mean to. I picked Hana up. Holding her makes me happy, makes me think of home. And I thought of the ice sculptures during Winter Festival, of mermaids, dragons, chimeras . . . so cold, so perfect. And—and my thoughts . . . they were enough to do this. She’s dead and it’s my fault!”
Conjuring ice . . . it was water magic. Powerful water magic.
Tears splashed onto Lucia’s cheeks. “Goddess help me, I can’t control this.”
“You can,” Cleo said. She still grasped Lucia’s shoulder and her ring had begun to glow just as it had the last time. Her heart raced. “You can control this. Your magic—it’s incredible.”
“That’s what Father says.” Lucia’s voice trembled. “But now everyone will know about this.”
“No, they won’t. I swear I won’t tell anyone.” Cleo gently took the frozen animal from Lucia and placed it down on the ground. Then she grasped the princess’s hands in her own. “I can help you.”
Lucia swallowed hard, frowning. “I feel calmer now with you here. More in control.”
Of course you do. I have the ring that helps controls your magic.
No wonder it hadn’t worked for Cleo unless she touched something magical. She had no magic of her own that needed to be tamed.
Not yet.
“We didn’t get off on the right foot before, Lucia. I am sorry for that. But I do want to be your friend. You need someone you can trust. So do I.” She couldn’t lose her strength or her bravery now when she needed it most. “I know what you are and what you can do. You’re a sorceress.”
Lucia’s eyes widened. “You know?”
So it was true. This—this was what Cleo needed. This was the sign she’d been searching for, praying for. The missing piece of her puzzle. The ring was only half of it.
Princess Lucia was the other half.
“Yes, I know.”
“And you’re not afraid of me?”
Terrified beyond words.
“No, I’m not afraid of you.” Cleo smiled and pulled this dangerous girl into a tight embrace. “You and me—we’re sisters now. We can help each other . . . if you want to.”
Lucia nodded, pressing her face into Cleo’s shoulder. “I want to.”
This princess was the most powerful creature who currently lived and breathed. And Lucia’s magic—aided by this ring—was essential to getting Cleo’s throne back.
The key to destroying the King of Blood was his very own daughter.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my wonderful editors on Rebel Spring, Laura
Arnold and Gillian Levinson, whose insights and encouragement I gobbled up with great gratitude. Thank you to Ben Schrank, who brilliantly masterminds all that is Razorbill; to the lovely Erin Dempsey, Elizabeth Zajac, Jessica Shoffel, and Anna Jarzab, for their incredible support and wicked organizational skills I deeply envy; to my delightful Canadian publicist, Vimala
Jeevanandam; to everyone on the teams at Penguin US, Penguin UK, and Penguin Canada, who are all about getting YA fiction (including the Falling Kingdoms series) into the hands of readers. You are all awesome. And, as always, thank you to my agent Jim McCarthy for being both smart and hilarious—very often at the same time.
Last, but not least, endless thanks to every reader who’s enjoyed the characters, the magic, and the mayhem so far in Mytica. I promise there’s much more to come!
Morgan Rhodes, Rebel Spring
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